The Definition of Time

Chapter 50

to the other girl:
I suppose I don't really hate you.
I've seen the art you painted of him
His name wasn't labeled there,
but I loved him enough to recognize those eyes anywhere. 
In each of your paint strokes, 
I see your heartbreak. 
I feel it as my own. 

When I need to remember him,
I look at her watercolor.
His true essence is best captured

in my memories and her paintings
In many ways, we're kindred spirits, you and I. 
I'm not sure who drove him from the other, you or I. 

Neither one of us could keep him
Neither one of us could make him stay
He left us both
and we'll never be the same.

May 12, 2015

"Go, Luis! Throw the ball in the net!" Jordan hollers, cheering ecstatically.

"I do not understand this game," I say with some distaste.

In an effort to be supportive girlfriends, Jordan and I are here cheering on Luis and Josh at their last lacrosse game of the season. Neither of us really understands lacrosse and I am morally against all varieties of sports, but we're doing our best to support them despite the sun beating down on our shoulders and the uncomfortable metal of the bleachers underneath us.

"Woohoo! Score! Win!" Jordan yells, equally clueless.

"Jord, we've become those girls," I say with astonishment.

"What girls?"

"The athlete girlfriend girls. You know, the ones who are defined by the fact that their boyfriends are athletes. Next thing you know we'll be wearing sports bras and painting their names across our midriffs," I say with a giggle.

"That actually would have been a good idea," Jordan says mischievously. "And all we have are these lousy signs."

I pick up one of our signs; they're so unartistic they're almost sad. They're colored blue and gold and say "Go Bees" in Sharpie. I've seen third graders make better quality art.

"Yeah, we might have been better off with the body paint," I say with a laugh.

Josh steals the ball a few times, which I think is a good thing, and Luis gets one point. Any time they touch the ball, Jordan and I cheer hysterically. The people around us probably think we've lost our minds. Despite our enthusiastic cheering, I eventually succumb to boredom and go the concession stand to get us some shaved ice. I order raspberry for Jordan and cherry for myself, and as I turn to head back to the grandstands, I nearly bump into a familiar face.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" I say and realize I nearly collided with Sierra Toy, Josh's friend who joined us on his birthday ziplining trip. "Sierra, right?"

She looks at me with a strange expression on her face. "Rachel, hi," she says, voice vacant.

"Uh, how have you been?" I say awkwardly.

"I'm doing well. I took the semester off, but I'm back for my senior art show next week."

"Oh, the Reinhold Exhibit? You got in? That's amazing, congratulations!" I say with a smile.

I'm signed up to report on the exhibit next week for the Bee, and from everything I've read, it's difficult to get in, even for seniors.

"Thanks," she says, brushing a strand of straight midnight hair from her eyes. "I, uh, heard about you and Josh," she says, offering me an attempted smile.

"Yeah," I say, unable to keep from smiling. "We started dating a few months ago."

"Congratulations," she says, avoiding my gaze. "Anyways, I better go. It was nice to see you again."